Motive
by trufflemores
Summary: Kurt and Blaine adopt a cat. Said-cat likes Kurt better than Blaine. This is how Kurt found out why. Klaine. COMPLETE.


**Disclaimer**: I do not own Glee or any of its characters; Ryan Murphy and Co. hold that honor. I'm simply writing this for fun, not profit.

Regardless of what was done to try to correct the situation, Kurt still managed – inexplicably and irreversibly – to monopolize their cat's affection.

Their Maine Coon didn't _dislike_ Blaine; she simply didn't love him like she did Kurt. Maya liked Blaine at times: she loved to curl up on his chest and fall asleep or weave between his feet whenever he was trying to reach an ingredient from one of the higher shelves (the falls were always spectacular with Blaine trying to avoid breaking a limb _and _crushing the cat). She even let him stroke her back during their Friday night movie for a few moments before sauntering over to Kurt's side for a proper petting.

But try though Blaine might to lure her with treats, toys, and other persuasive gestures, she always bolted or struck out, slashing his arms to near ribbons by the end of the week. Kurt had initially worried that perhaps they had picked up a naturally aggressive cat. She had been calm enough at the owners', purring loudly and continuously in his arms as she rubbed her furry cheek against the soft cashmere of Kurt's sweater. Kurt had fallen in love, cooing and promising to give her only the most lavish cat amenities that he could find while Blaine stood by and occasionally reached out to rub her ears or pet her back, equally smitten.

The homecoming had gone smoothly enough and as a six-year-old cat Maya was already house-trained. She'd lacked for nothing but a permanent home, and bringing her into theirs had seemed like a simple adjustment to their daily routine.

Except whereas cat cuddles were a given for Kurt, they were scarce for Blaine. Unless he was already unconscious, Maya rarely went near him when he was seated, apparently lacking sufficient opportunities to amuse herself by tripping him underfoot. She would amble into a room and pause, sniff in Blaine's direction, and then hop onto the couch before climbing into Kurt's lap and making herself comfortable. No matter how they situated themselves on the cushions, she always went for Kurt, purring loudly as he rubbed her ears and back. If Blaine shifted too close to them, then she would dart or growl, depending on the day, and at last strike if he dared to reach out.

Kurt felt bad for him, knowing how important their first pet was to both of them and fearing that Maya was already creating a rift between them. Blaine hadn't expressed open jealousy yet, but Kurt knew that after many, many, _many _failed attempts to bond with her, Blaine was feeling the sting of rejection fairly keenly.

As if his cat troubles weren't enough, Blaine then caught a cold midweek and sniffled his miserable way through three long days before finally returning home on Friday. As far as Kurt could tell when he arrived two hours after Blaine's last class, Blaine had done little more than toe off his shoes and loosen his tie before collapsing face-down onto their bed, fully dressed, and promptly falling asleep.

He was snoring steadily, face buried against the pillow to muffle the sound, and Kurt wondered how he hadn't already suffocated. Curled up in his clothes and still covered in cat claw marks from earlier in the week, Blaine was definitely looking worse for the wear since introducing the cat (to be fair to her, the cold and the brutally engaging week certainly hadn't helped matters).

Climbing onto the bed, Kurt shuffled onto the space beside Blaine and ran his hand up and down his arm until he finally tilted his head enough to look at him, hair still gelled but becoming less contained by the hour. Kurt wrinkled his nose at the sight, tugging on Blaine's sleeve lightly. "You'll feel better after a shower," he informed gently, kissing Blaine's forehead and looping an arm around his waist when Blaine scooted closer to him so he could bury his face against Kurt's shoulder.

"I feel awful," he said. "Like, this is worse than the shrink-wrapped fist of ham."

Arching an eyebrow – not sure he wanted to know – Kurt asked, "It's worse?"

Sighing deeply – it sounded painful to Kurt's ears, and Blaine's fingers twitched against Kurt's shoulders for a moment as though he might cough before the urge passed – Blaine explained, "My whole head. Feels like. A shrink-wrapped fist of ham – that was run over by a _truck. _Several times."

"Oh, honey." Rubbing his back, Kurt let him stay close for a few moments, not wanting to cause Blaine even more discomfort but also aware that Blaine would feel better after getting out of his school clothes. "Are you sure you don't want to take a shower?" he asked, once Blaine had dipped back towards sleep again, breaths slow and even.

"Mm?" Blaine coughed and Kurt did his best to not flinch. "Sorry," he added, scooting back a little so he could look at Kurt with red, sleepy eyes. "I should – yeah." Reaching up to rub a hand through his sweaty hair, he encountered gel and winced, scrunching up his nose in dismay. "Yeah. I should – do that." Shuffling out of bed, he added sleepily, "I'm gonna go shower."

"Don't fall," Kurt warned, wondering if Blaine was even conscious enough to process the request.

Switching out the pillowcases for new ones and turning down the sheets, Kurt barely had time to switch into a more comfortable set of clothes for the evening before Blaine was shuffling back in, dragging heavy feet over to the closet to pick out a pair of pajamas. He emerged in one of Kurt's long white t-shirts and a pair of his own navy sweat pants, collapsing onto his side on the bed as soon as he was within reach.

Kurt pulled the blankets up over him before kissing his cheek, asking, "Tylenol?"

"Tylenol," Blaine grunted, only the top of his curly hair visible underneath the blankets.

Ambling off to fetch the medicine, Kurt didn't even notice Maya until he pushed the curtain back and found her curled up against Blaine's chest. He froze just inside the room, not wanting to interrupt the impossibly calm scene as Blaine petted her back slowly, her entire form vibrating with purrs as she sidled closer and rubbed her cheek against his.

"Like me better now that I can't get up, huh?" Blaine mused, unable to keep a smile off his face as Maya set to work grooming his slightly stubbly cheek, purring all the while.

The wheels in Kurt's mind were already turning as he cautiously approached the bed. Blaine sat up enough to take the medicine, Maya shifting back smoothly so she could curl up against his stomach instead.

"Thank you," Blaine breathed, already relaxing back against the mattress, eyes closed, curls sprawled against the pillow. His smile twitched another notch wider as Maya set back to work licking his chin, evidently determined to fix him.

And then, just as Kurt was about to join him in bed, Kurt's gaze slid to the nightstand where Blaine's hair gel was, the pieces sliding into place as he said, "I don't think she likes your hair gel."

"Hm?" Blaine asked, his voice rough as he asked, "Who doesn't like my hair gel?"

"She doesn't like your hair gel," Kurt repeated, amazed. "That's why she's been avoiding you."

"Kurt?"

"And that's also probably why she's clawed you, too."

"Mm. Kurt?"

Sliding underneath the covers on his side of the bed, Kurt asked, "Yes?"

And Blaine replied, "I'd really like to cuddle with you right now." Maya hopped over Blaine's back as soon as Kurt scooted close enough to wrap an arm around his waist, not wanting to be caught in the middle.

Blaine tucked his forehead against Kurt's shoulder, not saying anything for a long time. Kurt was convinced that he had fallen asleep when he said at last in a slur, "Our cat is so _ridiculous, _Kurt."

And Kurt couldn't help but agree, laughing as he said against Blaine's perfect ungelled hair, "Go to sleep, B."

He couldn't say that he was complaining if the cat's primary motive had been to rid Blaine of his hair gel. It would never work completely, of course, but moments like this – however imperfect – were worth it, the trouble, the fuss, and the small victories in between.


End file.
